33.1: CC – THE REMIXES
WA[RRA]NTED, [MIS]TAKEN
- for Jane Gibian, with some trepidation [the] OFFER: 3 cans [of] fly spray [or equivalent led more or less straight to the] assorted videos [Unreflexive then, she was more hate, less] Ashbery. [The] Pregnancy test, Hurl[ed, spun like a …
Posted in 33.1: CC - THE REMIXES Leave a commentKerbside Collection Taken
Click image for larger version.
Posted in 33.1: CC - THE REMIXES 2 CommentsNostalgia
Your window at my throat: the vaseline of strawberries & musk. I rode your lips lustrous, a smitten interior, bride’s breath broke open with salt silk mixed in the singing palms of apple trees. Your hand stripping the red from …
Posted in 33.1: CC - THE REMIXES Leave a commentSilence for indifference.
There’s a siren but far away, A kitten blows like tumbleweed down a street otherwise empty. The closed storefronts are vacant as dreams, and the traffic lights like absence before the raw, Streaks of wind, It is barely dawn, The …
Posted in 33.1: CC - THE REMIXES Leave a comment[After sleep the body's imprint lingers]
~ In the summer, they are tiny, cotton puffs, thin with the need to escape … These winterdreams are heavier and take longer to sort. ~ unexamined life continuous digital glitch presenting as analog texture. In Fremantle we tour the …
Posted in 33.1: CC - THE REMIXES Leave a commentBEYOND BLACK & WHITE
SIMPLY BY SAILING IN A NEW DIRECTION A net of names drops into the illiterate sea. MY PRIVATE MISSILE CRISIS 28.03.10 Twice miss the mark by seconds. Quivering nights await The mechanic says my engine Is easily fixed Ignition falters …
Posted in 33.1: CC - THE REMIXES 1 CommentDownhill
On good days, I go uphill again; I walk uphill to get groceries. At the top of the hill, it goes down, there is a good place to sit near there. I walk uphill to get groceries, half-way, when the …
Posted in 33.1: CC - THE REMIXES Leave a commentSomewhere in Patagonia
It surrounds me the vernacular, the buzz of your land,
sue tameS MY BROTHER
my Brother never appears on media as much of
Posted in 33.1: CC - THE REMIXES Leave a commentFatality
The king goes under for the third time, the birds are not of this world. Every ship that ever set sail or steered beyond the known, making landfall on a beach of bones. ~ Passing beneath your window, tongue in …
Beneath "Saw"
after Bella Li’s ‘You Saw Me First Isabella’ You, beneath “saw”. Your “me”, window-first. Tongue Isabella stilled passing dagger; for at indifference my “I” throat smiled you in. Mistook spite. My “of silence”. Myself. The ewe wind alone …
apropos (celebration instructions remix)
1. relation between exposure & strength: poppies touch it to the point of no hands 2. sunflowers not anchored by old coins to make art their invisible 3. insect vision a nonblind blind their treasure buzz 4. celebration of husks 5. the rain- framed germination clock not the seed instructions 6. electric grains soft spools of early seedlings purple with the dark
Posted in 33.1: CC - THE REMIXES Leave a comment
Site & contents © 2000-2012
Cordite Poetry Review unless otherwise stated